


Taste

by Narroch



Category: Vassalord
Genre: Blood Drinking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-04
Updated: 2011-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-16 20:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narroch/pseuds/Narroch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charley dips his fangs in and out of the undulant body before him, splayed in mock submission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this back in '11 on fanfiction.net. Moved it over here to save it from the Purge of Filth.

Charley dips his fangs in and out of the undulant body before him, splayed in mock submission. He knows it would be nothing for Johnny Rayflo to push him away, bite him back or, at the very least, dissolve into a nebulous cloud of membraned wings and slip from his metallic grasp.

But Johnny does none of these things, instead he leans and sighs and pulses into Charley's eager mouth, heaving and fervent until their ears are filled with nothing but the sound of their shared arching. Johnny doesn't fight it or run away; no, he finds too much pleasure in leading his charge down into sinful decadence. His Cherry dropped and drowned in the dark chocolate addiction of vampiric blood.

Indeed, Charley acts like an addict, piercing and repiercing, desperately laying needle tracks along the pale columns of yielding flesh, not sure why he is doing it. Rationally he knows it would be a simple matter to just bite once, lathe and worry and suck the twin tears until he is satisfied. But there is something primal and urgent about the dipping and popping of flesh, something almost sexual about that first sweet wet in-rush, the clamp and thrust of his mouth against every inch of unblemished skin…

Expect, of course, for the bits where it's most appropriate (or _in_ appropriate, depending on whose side you look at it from). Charley could easily turn his sharp probing from the symbolic to the purely sinful. The thought has crossed his mind (worn a deep grooved path through his brain if he's being completely honest), but it is always most obvious when he is feeding.

The fact that he is simultaneously penetrating and sucking every inch of Johnny's anatomy, except for the places most suited for such activities, is an unspoken truce between them.

Charley wonders about those places, those intimate bits where the blood vessels cluster like dense weave, where the flow would be overwhelming; the flesh moist and tender. Soft enough to even bite _off_ if he were so inclined. He imagines the grotesque geyser that would erupt from such an unthinkably cruel violation. And though he isn't a cruel person, a devout religious man even, his cock still thrums suddenly and unexpectedly at the visceral thought.

The reaction is disturbing enough that Charley pulls away from Johnny's bleeding belly with a sudden shudder.

"What's wrong, Cherry?" Johnny asks, immediately moving towards him again, concern and curiosity glowing equally in his ebony eyes.

"It's Charley," he responds, the tired and automatic correction acting as only the thinnest shield from the vampire's boring eyes. They are dilated, heavy-lidded, and Charley knows they are already in the process of unhinging in order to swallow him whole. Despite being a virgin, he knows why bedroom eyes are called such and he quickly moves to take control of them before he is taken in by them.

He slithers down and clamps onto Johnny's thigh, the skin there pulsing and pressurized, and he can't help the moan that dribbles from inside the penetration.

Johnny's appreciative hiss sets him to frantically suckling the newborn wound.

No, Charles thinks to himself as he listens to the hitching gasps of his master, even if he were to venture with his seeking, thrusting, penetrating teeth anywhere near that area, he is sure his target would be a bit _too hard_ to ever actually bite off.


End file.
